


Muggleborn Moses

by KemAjiana



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, F/F, F/M, Fred Weasley Lives, Harry is dead, Hermiome in the US, Ron is dead, So many characters are dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 10:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11621952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KemAjiana/pseuds/KemAjiana
Summary: Voldemort won, and Hermione, the only surviving of the trio, is forced to flee increasingly harsh Muggleborn laws to avoid being hunted down like a sewer rat. Along with several others, she opens a halfway home for refugee children. The only way to save the future is to get as many out as they can.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey-o! Welcome to Muggleborn Moses! I hope you enjoy this Harriet Tubman inspired fic. Drop a review and a follow, if you can! Thanks!
> 
> Mucho love to my two besties for letting me throw their names in here. You rock. Mwah.

**Muggleborn Moses**

**_by Kem'Ajiana_ **

* * *

**Chapter One**

Catskills, USA. 2001.

 _Hermione usually woke before the_ sun rose, be it for rounds or her internal alarm clock that she loved to hate. She enjoyed sitting and watching the sun come up over the mountaintops, the light slowly creeping up her acres-long lawn. Winter was especially beautiful, when the light would catch the icicles just right and throw beams across the pristine snow.

She found solace in her old plantation home. She had painstakingly refurbished it bit by bit, from the stone walkway to the deteriorating beams that towered over her head and formed the vaulted ceiling to the whitewashed walls. She had hung old portraits, scavenged from the ruins of Hogwarts, and photos of long-dead friends along the walls. Reminders that, while life was peaceful here in her secluded home, things were truly far from  _peaceful_.

She scraped her knife over her golden toast as her breakfast tea steeped, staring out over the white landscape. As she bit into her buttered bread, there was a  _pop_  of apparition, and a small house elf appeared before her.

"Good morning, miss!"

"Good morning, Hatty," Hermione greeted back fondly. "How are you today?"

"Hatty is well, miss. Hatty wearses a new dress!" she twirled, her patchwork dress - pieced together from bits of cloth Hermione presented her and a pillowcase - spinning about her knobby kneecaps. "Does the miss like?"

The witch smiled. "I love it. Yellow suits you."

Hatty gave a trill of delight, hugging Hermione's kneecaps. "Thanks you, miss." Then she turned and began puttering about the kitchen, summoning a stack of thickly sliced bread, a huge bowl of eggs, and other various breakfast items. "Hatty woke miss Cassie and miss Alicia. Miss Cassie likes to throw her shoe at Hatty."

Hermione stared at Hatty for a long second. "Did...she at least  _miss_?"

The elf nodded enthusiastically. "The angry miss will have to be much faster to catch Hatty! Hatty is a fast elf!" She waved her whisk in nonchalance before returning to beat the eggs in bowl. The pan on the stovetop was beginning to sizzle, and she poured the milk-whipped eggs into it with a  _hiss_.

There came the sound of footsteps, and a pair of women entered wearing thick robes - one blue, one yellow, fashioned after their days spent at Hogwarts.

"I would be a lot less angry, Hatty, if you didn't wake me every morning by clanging two pots together by my ears," grumbled the raven-haired woman in blue as she sat heavily on a stool across from Hermione. "Good morning, Hermione."

"Yes. Good morning, Hermione," Alicia chimed as she tucked in beside Cassie. "Good morning, Hatty."

The elf responded by setting a plate before her with eggs and toast and a smile. Cassie stirred a dollop of honey into her tea.

"Charlotte still out on patrol?" she asked.

Hermione nodded an affirmative. "We picked up on some tire tracks out by the West field. She went to investigate since I have classes this morning and she doesn't."

Alicia tilted her head to the side a bit. "What day is it today?"

"Tuesday, Alicia," Cassie groaned, taking a long drag of her tea. "Merlin, that's good tea." She rolled her stiff shoulders. "I have the 16 year olds out at the old silo, this morning. Identifying Jupiter's moons."

Hermione nodded. "I'll be in the classroom all day today; History of Magic."

"Greenhouse, for us!" Alicia chirped. "We are identifying the position of the sun and how it effects -"

"I  _hate_  Herbology. Have I ever mentioned that?" came a fourth feminine voice.

Alicia glowered, stabbing a quivering pile of scrambled egg and plopping it unceremoniously on her darkened, marmalade smothered toast. "About a dozen times a week."

"You have straw. In your hair, Char," Hermione smiled, gesturing.

With a mumble, the girl plucked out a long strand of grass from her short red hair. "I hate those fields. Nothing but thistles and bushes. It catches in my fur."

Alicia snickered under her breath, glancing up to look at the time. "Oh. It's already seven!" Cassie shrugged, moving to stand, and Hermione followed suit.

"Best get ready for the day, I suppose," Charlotte harumphed. "I'm going to shower and put on. _..clean_  robes."

"Slytherins and obsessive cleanliness, I swear," Alicia mumbled as she handed her plate off to Hatty with a smile. "Merlin forbid you sbould have an speck of dirt on your otherwise immaculate being. The world would end!"

The red haired woman lifted her aristocratic chin and sniffed. "Sorry that us snakes would rather look half dignified and not smell like...what are you wearing? Eau de Compost?"

Alicia huffed, straightening her robes. "Stuck up Slytherin."

"You love me, Alicia."

"That," she hissed, "is beside the point. Now, please excuse me while I go wash off my  _eau de compost_."

Cassie rubbed at the bridge of her nose. " _Must_  you give me a headache this early in the morning?"

Behind her, Hermione chuckled. "It's a rather unfortunate gift they have, don't you think?"

With a shrug, Charlotte gave a wide yawn. "Yes, well, enjoy your classes. I'm off to bed -"

"Oh! Charlotte!" Hermione stopped her. "Did you figure out what those tracks were from?"

"Oh. Yes. Some teenagers decided to go off roading on our property," Charlotte answered with a shrug. "I raised some more wards to deter any muggles around that area. We may need to do a sweep, however."

Hatty swept past, then, levitating a huge bowl of steaming eggs, a towering plate of toast, and several dishes with fruit ahead of her. She paused to inform Hermione they were out of fruit before disappearing into the main dining area, where there came a low murmuring of voices.

"That's our cue," Cassie muttered, sweeping out the door after Hatty in a swirl of dark blue robes and long black hair.

Hermione hummed acknowledgement and put a small smile on her face. "Well, I'm off to attend the day. See you later, Charlotte. I assume you'll be out by the pond, as usual?"

"Yes. Cyril and Jed have almost got their transformations down, and I have the fifteen and sixteen year olds working on stamina this afternoon, after lunch. " Charlotte rolled her shoulders. "Thankfully, none of them are something ridiculous like...an orca. Or something. I don't think we have a big enough pond."

Hermione gave a nod of aporoval. "I guess it is a good thing we know what we are  _before_  the transformation occurs, huh? Could you imagine whales in the middle of the yard?"

With a chuckle, Charlotte shook her head. "I can see the Muggle headlines, now. Anyway, I'm off. If Fred swing by, tell him -"

"- I will, Charlotte. Good night."

The two women swept apart, Hermione following after Cassie and stepping into a large dining area where six underage children sat, buttering their toasts and sipping their teas. One girl - at least fifteen - looked up and greeted Hermione quietly before tucking her nose back into her voluminous book.

As Hermione moved to pass an older girl, the blonde haired witch looked up and touched her sleeve. "Miss Granger, I have a question about our History of Magic homework you assigned on Thursday. About Maglif and the Giant Wars."

After assisting Robin, she settled in at the head of the long table alongside Cassie, watching as more students trickled in to eat breakfast before classes assumed. Hermione gave a sad, soft smile.

After Voldemort had defeated Harry and overthrown the Ministry - and Hogwarts - in that bloody battle on May second, three years prior, Muggleborns had become first on the hitlist. Hunted down and executed like  _vermin_ , over one hundred men, women, and children - some as young as four or five - murdered in their homes. He preached that those of Muggle heritage were theives. Leeches on Wizarding society. A disease to be snuffed out if they were to survive.

So, with the help of the surviving Weasleys, Hermione had done the only thing she could do -  _fled._

Fred and George - who had scraped through the Battle of Hogwarts by the skin of their teeth - had smuggled her to the United States via shipping container, along with Alicia, a Muggleborn Hufflepuff four years her junior. Cassie had followed soon after, and the three had set to work restoring an old, run-down plantation home in the Catskill Mountains. Charlotte, a Pureblooded Slytherin three years older than Hermione (and with Muggleborn sympathies), had jumped ship and joined them six months later, with the assistance of Charlie.

A year into their exile, Fred brought to them a newly-orphaned pair of boys - Caden Smith and Fallon Harris, both Muggleborns who had been whisked away just in the knick of time. Their parents, however, had not been so lucky, caught in the crosshairs of the newly established Ministry of Magic. Two months later, Tara Hughes had joined them, and then Dean Murray.

And then, Hermione came up with a brilliant - albeit dangerous - idea: an underground railroad for Muggleborns. A smuggling system to get those persecuted by the Ministry  _out_.

Along with a few friends, they had infiltrated the Ministry to try and identify as many children as they could. Luna Lovegood had taken to record keeping for the Magical Births, Deaths, and Marriages department, altering and smuggling them as need be to several individuals that would then try and get to the children before the Death Eaters did. Tonks was one of those, bent on avenging the unjust death of her newborn son the same night as the Battle of Hogwarts, slain whilst his mother and father defended the last stronghold against Voldemort and his followers. Draco Malfoy, Pureblood Prince turned remorseful martyr, was another. After the death of his mother, he had thrown aside his Pureblood rhetoric in order to clear his family name. He had been an unlikely, but irreplaceable, ally.

Over the course of the following year and a half, Fred had moved permanently to Wizarding New York City and set up shop there, acting as the receiving center for children sent by his twin brother. The population had risen to thirty one in the blink of an eye, it seemed. Together with Alicia, Cassie, and Charlotte, the witches had decided to do their best to educate the children in their charge as to give them the best fighting chance. Among those studies was learning to become an Animagus - Charlotte's specialty. The skill was a must-learn, as it provided the children the opportunity to make a quick, undercover escape should the need ever arise.

From the front of the house came a loud  _bang bang_ _bang_ , and the dining room fell silent except for the giggling of Addison as she shredded her toast. Hermione, jolted from her reverie, stood, the chair legs scraping against the hardwood flooring.

Wand in hand, she went to answer the door, peering through the small peephole at the top and heaving a sigh of relief.

It was Fred. And there was a girl with him.

Unlocking the door, it swung open, and the redhead escorted the brown haired child into the house with a grim expression. "Sorry to bother you so early, 'Mione. This," he gestured to the slim girl with the too-big brown eyes and splattering of freckles across her petite nose, "is Emma."


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Here we go! Chapter 2! Nothing crazy. We do learn a bit more about Charlotte, and the dynamic between Fred and Hermione. Enjoy!
> 
> Mucho love to my two besties for letting me throw their names in here. You rock. Mwah.

**Muggleborn Moses**

**_by Kem'Ajiana_ **

* * *

**Chapter 2**

_Emma was a small-framed_ girl, with ivory skin and a smattering of freckles across her button nose. Her brown hair, though tangled and greasy – likely, she had not bathed since whatever ordeal that had led to her landing on the steps of Hermione's Home for Misplaced Witches and Wizards – was thick and long, and reminded Hermione of Ginny's luscious locks in their school-years.

But her eyes, whiskey colored and sharp, bespoke of a wisdom far beyond her delicate youth.

"Hello, Emma," Hermione greeted gently. She could hear the pattering of footsteps behind her as nosey student crowded the dining room archway. "My name is Hermione Granger. How about we head into the living room for some privacy."

Fred ran his hand through his shock of thick, red hair, kicking the door shut behind him with a thud. Hermione looked disapprovingly at him, but then noticed the dark bags that stood out starkly from beneath his blue eyes. A crease settled between her brows as she watched him, her fingers twitching to stroke the hair from his face.

As the small girl settled onto a plush couch, Fred pulled Hermione aside with a gentle tug at her sleeve from his long, nimble fingers. "George sent her to me. Said she just…showed up on his doorstep all cut up and bruised." He looked unsettled as his eyes swept over the girl. "Something is off with this girl, 'Mione. No one could find any reports on her or her family – no birth records, no muggle news outlets reporting any mysterious deaths or kidnappings…nothing. She just  _appeared_."

Hermione fidgeted with her sleeve, worrying the inside of her cheek. "That is…strange. Do you think Malfoy could try and dig anything up? He's got resources to find anything if there is anything to be found."

The red-head shook his head. "We already exhausted that route." He glanced at the girl, lowering his voice even more. "I'm telling you, Hermione; this girl just  _appeared_."

"That's implausible, Fred. No one just appears put of thin air. She had to come from somewhere; that's just common – "

They were interrupted by Alicia, who had appeared in the doorway carrying a tray of blueberry biscuits and breakfast tea. "I apologize for interrupting, but I figured she could use a bite; the girl must be marvin."

Hermione shook her head with a fond smile. "No, of course, Alicia. Thank you."

Alicia smiled brightly, striding past the couple and kneeling at the girl's feet, murmuring gently. Emma took the tray and dove into the food, earning a hearty laugh from the former Hufflepuff.

"So," Fred whispered. "what are we going to do?"

Hermione shook her head in exasperation. "I don't know, Fred. I can't just turn the girl out on the streets –  _look at her_. She needs food and sleep and Merlin knows she needs a bath. And she can't be more than, what...ten; she poses no threat to myself or the rest of us." She heaved a great sigh, tapping her fingers against her thigh. "So long as she continues not to be a threat, we'll treat her as a resident here. What else could we do? Turn her out into the snow? Send her back to Britain?"

The wizard shifted uncomfortably, lifting his hand and tucking a stray strand of her upswept hair back behind her ear. "I just worry about you out here. If something were to happen – "

" – I would send for you immediately," she smiled fondly. "Don't worry about me, Fred. I'm a big girl; I can take care of myself. I've faced Dark Lords and lived to tell the tale."

She glanced up at the clock – 7:38 am. "Fred, make yourself at home, you know where my room is. The weather looked like it was bound to turn nasty when I was out patrolling this morning. I don't want you to get caught out in a snowstorm on your broom. Alicia," she turned to address the other woman. "Please show Miss Emma to one of the spare rooms so that she may shower and get a good rest after she's finished eating. And let Hatty know we have a new guest, please."

Alicia beamed and returned to talking lowly with the girl, who already seemed at relative ease in the large house. As Hermione moved to sweep past Fred, he caught her hand, bringing it up to his mouth and giving it a soft kiss.

"My very strong,  _very_  intelligent witch."

"My very handsome,  _very_  ingenious wizard."

She pressed her mouth to his in a gentle brush of skin before pulling away and sweeping into the dining area, announcing in what Fred called her " _Professor Voice_ " that classes would begin in ten minutes. Fred smiled to himself as he kicked off his heavy boots – dragon hide, a present from Charlie – and marched his way up the long stairs to the staff hall. He saw Charlotte peek her wine-colored head out from her bedroom across from Hermione's, her normally stern, aristocratic face lighting up hopefully.

"Fred!"

"Charlotte," he smiled.

She opened her door wider and stood expectantly. The old adage of  _'you can take the girl out of Slytherin, but never the Slytherin out of the girl'_  came to mind. "Have you heard anything from Charlie?" Her artistic finger plucked nervously at a silver bracelet at her wrist

He shook his head regretfully. "I'm afraid not. He's been cooped up in Romania with another influx of dragons from Norway."

Her face fell a bit. "Oh. Well. I gave Hermione a letter for him. I'm sure she'll pass it along to you before you leave, but if you could make sure…" her voice trailed off uncertainly as she stepped back into her room. "Please."

"Of course I will. I'll owl George as soon as I get back to the shop in Williamsburg."

She mumbled out a thank you, retreated quickly back into her room and shutting the door softly. Fred felt badly for the girl. She and Charlie had hit it off rather well after she'd come around the shop in Diagon Alley, asking for refuge from the Death Eaters hounding her footsteps. Charlie had been leery of her, at first, especially considering she was a Pureblooded Slytherin from his school years – just a few years younger than him, actually – and was an active participant in the taunting that carried on between the two rival Houses. In fact, Charlie had told them, she had been responsible for two or three Gryffindor hospital wing visits in her time. But her House rivalry had not carried over into her adult years past the age of twenty. Willing to overlook the red or yellow or blue that countered her Slytherin green, she had merely wanted to set about being the best healer she could be.

And, up until the war, she had done just that. Until the Death Eaters had come calling her name.

Now, with her having abdicated her throne as a healer, she had been reduced to teaching orphaned children the fundamentals of Transfiguration, as well as helping them achieve an animagus form. And she was rather good at it. But she did not enjoy it. Her only source of true happiness came in the form of letters between she and Charlie, as intermittent as they were. Fred knew Charlie adored the woman, but the wizard had only so much time on his hands, and Charlotte could not return to Britain in the state the country was currently in. She would be executed.

One does not merely walk away from Voldemort.

Fred shut the door behind him softly, peeling off his cold, wet clothing, and practically threw himself into Hermione's hot shower, letting the water thaw him from the outside in. He allowed his thoughts to drift to the mystery that was Emma.

 _Such a strange girl_ , he thought to himself.  _How did she just…end up on George's stoop? No money, no family, and muggleborn. How did she even know where to go?_

The more he pondered, the more frustrated he became, until, eventually, he had to begrudgingly admit…Hermione was right; they could not simply toss her out to the wolves to fend for herself. She was just a child. Knutless. Wandless. With no magical skill. In other words:  _A Death Eater chew toy_.

That is, if she wasn't a Death Eater spy to begin with.

He sighed, cutting off the water and stepping from the tub, drying himself quickly before flopping belly-first onto Hermione's neatly turned down bed. He laughed lightly as he buried his face in her pillow, inhaling the scent of vanilla and cinnamon – a distinctly Hermione smell that did funny things to his stomach.

Less than three hours later, he was blinking open his eyes, rolling out of bed with a yawn and donning a favorite pair of thick, fur-lined robes he left at Hermione's for occasions just as this. With a wave of his wand, he set the bed to rights again - a lesson he had learned early on in his relationship with the witch - before slipping out of the room quietly, trotting down the long, dimly-lit hallway to the stairwell that led up to the third floor.

He couldn't help but peek in at Hatty as she tended to the Under Ten's (as Fred had dubbed them), smiling to himself as he caught Thomas and Travis, the twin brothers he was particularly fond of, wrestling for a toy train. Emma, whom he noticed looked substantially better after a shower, sat off to the side, chatting animatedly with Drea, another ten-year-old girl, while Hatty magicked a feather to drift about the room just out of reach of little Addison's grabby hands. The four-year-old fumbled about, trying to snag it.

"Hello, Mister Weasley," came a bright voice. "Miss Hermione is in class with the second years. Would you like me to take you to her?"

He turned away quickly from the bright play room and beamed down at the boy in front of him – Caden? Leon? No, no, Dean! "Ah, no. Thank you, Dean. I'm just wandering around. Shouldn't you be in class?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders. "I was just using the toilet. I'm headed back to Herbology, now. Have a good day, Mister Weasley! I hope you can show us some tricks before you leave!"

The boy scurried away, and Fred could only shake his head. He remembered how he had been at thirteen –  _incorrigible_. Slowly, he made his way up the hallway, peeking out the window when he caught a flash of red in the pristine whiteness of the landscape. Charlotte was leading a small rabbit on a jaunt while a boy jogged alongside them, sinking knee-deep in the snow. The rabbit seemed unsure, disoriented; a new Animagus, then, he surmised. He shook his head, remembering fondly the first time he'd transformed. Wobbly on four paws, smells that burned his nose, and so much closer to the ground! He wasn't as tall as his brothers, but looking up and seeing just legs was just so surreal! Golden eyes caught his in the distance before the fox bounded off, encouraging the rabbit and the boy to do the same.

Fred moved on, stopping in the doorway of Hermione's classroom where she moved between two students. Six heads were bowed over books and parchment papers, scribbling away at notes, while Hermione carried on about Goblins and Giants. He vaguely remembered learning about the skirmishes when he was about the same time, but hadn't been bothered to pay attention. Now, as Hermione bent to point out a line to a student, he wished he'd had a teacher as good-looking as her; maybe then he'd have paid more attention in class. He thought it a tad unfair, to be honest.

Hermione turned and stopped mid-sentence for just a moment before giving him a soft smile and resuming her lecture, waving her wand to scribble a series of dates on the chalkboard.

Inwardly, Fred prayed to whatever deity there may be, that this serene peace lasted.


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another day, another chapter. Here's some Fremione fluff. More characters will start to appear soon. I think next chapter is when things start to get exciting.
> 
> Mucho love to my two besties for letting me throw their names in here. You rock. Mwah.

**Muggleborn Moses**

**_by Kem'Ajiana_ **

* * *

**Chapter 3**

_Hermione pressed against Fred eagerly_ , ravenous, slim fingers gripping his broad shoulders as she clutched him as close as physically possible. Drying sweat made them sticky, and Fred laughed into her open-mouthed kisses as he caught her hair in a fist, tugging her head back to look into her whiskey eyes.

"'Mione, love, I'm not going anywhere. Have you  _seen_  the storm outside?"

" _Your fault_ ," She mumbled under her breath as she rolled to the side, pillowing her head against the pocket of his shoulder, burying her face in his throat as she placed wet kisses against his salty skin. He continued to laugh lightly. " _Too long_ ," she muttered in his ear, exhaling and drawing a gusty exhale from him. She trailed her fingers down, over his pectorals, across his ribsribs, lower,  _lower_...

His large palm spanned her waist as he pulled her in closer to him, nails raking, effectively trapping her rather  _wander-y_  hands between their bodies. She practically purred with contentment as he continued to scratch her back placatingly. "I know. I'm sorry." He looked down at her, the angle making it slightly uncomfortable as his eyes strained to catch hers. "But it's also a good thing. It means I haven't been the bringer of bad news."

She shook her head, eyes falling closed as her breath fanned his chest. Outside, the sun was rising, though impossible to see past the torrential sheeting ice, and with it, the house. They could hear Hatty moving about the hallway, preparing to wake Charlotte across the hall. Hermione's room –  _their_  room, when Fred was present – would be next, unless made clear they were up.

"I don't want to get out of bed, today. Can't you just…stay here?" the red-head pouted.

Hermione groaned, peeling herself away from Fred and bracing her bare feet against the thick carpet as she gathered her red sheets (800 count,  _thank you_ ) around her. "I wish I had the resources to. I can't remember the last time I had a lie-in. Before Bill's wedding, I think."

Fred grimaced, catching her hand as she moved to stand. "You should really take a breather, 'Mione. It's not good for you to be so…go, go, go all the time."

She leveled her gaze with his. "Charlotte, Alicia, and Cassie have all been there with me. Every step of the way, for the most part. If I cannot offer them a day of just  _lying-in_ , I can't, either. It wouldn't be fair."

He snorted, throwing his arm over his eyes. "Oh, please. You fought in a  _war_ , Hermione. You're still fighting it. You lost your  _two best friends_ …" he choked slightly, trailing off. "I think they'll understand if you need a lie-in."

"We've all lost something, Fred Weasley." She touched her fingertips to his cheek, where a long, faded scar swept like a silver crescent across the smoothe skin. "All of us."

With a final kiss, she retreated to the bathroom in a makeshift dress of bundled red sheets (" _honestly, Hermione, there isn't anything I haven't seen_!"), showering quickly to get the sweat off her skin, and shook her head when she saw the series of little kiss-marks left along the tops of her breast. Piling her hair into a sleek bun at the top of her head, an astonishing feat in and of itself, she donned her thick black robes with the red lining over her plain dress clothes and swept back into her room. Fred had fallen back to sleep with the lull of the water and storm, his mouth open in a silent snore, and she tucked the heavy covers in around his broad frame, kissing his forehead gently and tiptoeing from the room.

Charlotte was already sitting at the table, sipping her morning coffee (" _as black as my heart_ ", she'd quip), and raised an elegantly manicured, wine-red brow. "Look who decided to make an appearance this morning. Unusual for you to be so… _tardy_."

The insinuation in her words were not lost on the younger witch. "Ah, well. I had a late night."

Charlotte snorted. "I know. I had to throw up more than one silencing spell. In fact, I almost  _threw_  up!"

The two witches laughed, finding joy in verbally jabbing at one another; it reminded them of their school years, without the blood-status taunts. Bringing the coffee to her lips, Charlotte looked out the window at the raging storm. Ice fell in heavy sheets, battering the windows and making them rattle.

"No offense to them, but  _Merlin_  I'm glad it was Alicia and Cassie's night to patrol, and not ours." She shuddered dramatically as she went to nibble on a piece of buttered toast.

Hermione's brow furrowed. "I hope they're alright. It is pretty awful out there..."

As if on cue, the front door was thrown open and the heavy wind swept up the curtains. Alicia, covered in a thick layer of ice, came around the corner, followed closely by Alicia. Their teeth were chattering, faces flushed and lips almost blue. Hatty, the ever-diligent, ever-thoughtful House Elf, slid two large cups of hot tea and a small platter of steaming eggs before the practically frost bitten witches. Hermione cast a quick warming spell over them, watching the ice thaw from their heavy coats in a steady  _drip, drip_  of water that pooled on the floor at their feet.

Cassie sighed, fingers still trembling with the chill, as she brought the steaming cup of tea to her lips. "It was so windy, I had to do the whole patrol on foot. I would have been knocked right out of the sky!"

Charlotte's brows furrowed. "You could have come and fetched me. I would have taken your patrol. Not happily, mind you, but it would have been better than you freezing your bum off. At least I would have had my fur coat."

"Mm," the woman responded, eyes sliding closed. "I just want to sleep."

Hermione thought for a long, drawn out moment. "Finish your tea, have a nice, hot shower, and then you both can have the day off. In fact," she murmured. "Perhaps it would be best if we all took the day to recoup."

"We could offer this as an independent study day…" Alicia suggested quietly from where she was practically falling asleep in her stool. "Let the older students help the younger..."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with one mister  _Fredrick Gideon Weasley_ , would it?" Charlotte quipped cheekily.

Hermione raised her eyebrow. "Would you complain if it did?"

With a lift of her cup and a smirk, Charlotte conceded. "Who wants to play 'favorite professor' and tell the students the good news?"

Cassie shrugged. "I don't care. I'm going to bed. Good night."

She and Alicia staggered from the room and Hermione frowned a bit. "I do hope neither of them catch a cold...Hatty," she turned to the puttering House Elf in the yellow dress. "would you do me a favor and slip them some Pepper Up potion later in the day?"

"As the Miss wishes!"

"Thank you, Hatty. And I think it'll just be a beans on toast day, today. Nothing fancy, please. Maybe chicken for supper?"

"Of course, Miss!"

Charlotte stood, waving her wand and sending her cup to the sink to wash, and yawned. "I guess I'll be off to bed, as well. I'll be in my room if you have need of me." She stood with a flourish, sweeping out of the room in a way that reminded Hermione distinctly of Snape.

The verb  _flounce_  came to mind when she thought of Charlotte.

With the kitchen empty, save for Hatty as she tended to breakfast for the residents, Hermione disposed of her tea and stepped into the hallway. Pressing her wand to her throat and casting a silent  _Sonorus_ , she announced: " **Due to weather conditions, classes are cancelled today. We will resume tomorrow. Meals will be served at the same times as usual.** " Her voice reverberated through the old manor, and she heard several muffled cheers coming from the students' rooms.

She climbed the stairs rapidly, eager to throw off her robes and maybe –  _just maybe_  – climb back into bed with Fred. When she opened the door to her bedroom, however, robes in hand, she found that Fred was not where she'd left him. The bed was still ruffled, but he was nowhere in sight.

"Fred?"

She stepped into the room, wand brandished – an old habit, from her Horcrux hunting days – and kicked the door shut behind her. As she eyed the room, a set of strong arms wrapped about her waist, lifting her off her feet. She let out a squeal of alarm, face flushing with embarrassment as Fred toppled them over onto her large, plush bed.

"Fred! You can't do that!" she scolded. "I could have killed you!"

His blue eyes twinkled playfully as he twirled his wand in his lithe fingers. "What? You mean with this little thing?"

Her face flamed. "I…how – "

" – we've been practicing nonverbal disarming charms, George and I," he explained, setting her wand on her bedside table. "Figured it may come in handy if – "

" –can we not talk about ifs, right now? Please?" she pleaded softly, burying her head in his bare chest.

He hummed in agreement, pulling her tightly to his body. "It's good to talk ifs, sometimes, 'Mione. Especially now. But I'll let it rest, for now." A long silence filled the air as she toed off her shoes and sidled out of her pants and into a pair of running sweats. His hand caressed her abdomen, drawing small shapes and palming the slight swell there on occasion. "So. Did that ' _weather cancellation_ ' have anything to do with  _moi_?"

She arched her brow at him. "You and Charlotte must have this…freaky brainwave thing going on, because I swear she asked me the same thing not five minutes ago."

"As the saying goes:  _great minds think alike_!" he grinned cheekily.

" _But fools seldom differ_ ," she fired back.

"Oh. Is that the ending to that?" He tipped his chin in mock-thought. "I definitely thought it was ' _but dirty minds work together_ '."

"You would."

"I don't hear you complaining."

"Would you like me to more often?"

He rolled then, earning him a squeal of laughter from the little brunette witch, and hovered over the top of her with his nose touching hers. "I mean. I can find more ways to be devious, if I must. The benefit of being a prankster, like me, is that my mind never stops coming up with new and exciting things."

Her whisky eyes smoldered as she stared up at him. "Pray tell, oh mischievous one. What sorts of  _things_?"

He trailed his nose down her jawline to the column of her throat, peppering kisses lightly. "Are you asking me to  _show_? Or  _tell_?"

He dipped lower, kissing her collarbone, then her lower abdomen, his hands finding purchase along the underside of her full breasts. "Show.  _Oh,_  dear Merlin,  _show_."


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And here. We. Go. Excitement is going to start building in this chapter. Woo!
> 
> Mucho love to my two besties for letting me throw their names in here. You rock. Mwah.

**Muggleborn Moses**

**_by Kem'Ajiana_ **

* * *

**Chapter 4**

" _…I'm okay, I'm alright_ ," sang Hermione softly as she chopped away at a dittany plant with precision. " _I ain't gonna face no defeat. I just gotta get out of this prison cell…_ "

Emma peered around the corner of the kitchen, hands stuffed in her deep robe pockets, a soft smile gracing her face as she watched Hermione sway to the softly-playing muggle radio. She recognized the song easily as she crept closer, careful to not disturb the potioneer-ing witch as she sat at the island just a few feet from Hermione. She laid her head on her arms, whiskey eyes riveted on the bushy-haired witch.

"… _can anybody find me somebody to love_?" She added the last of the ingredients to her boiling cauldron, tucking a stray strand of frazzled hair behind her ear and downing a quick gulp of water and turning. She jolted a bit, the glass nearly slipping from her fingers as she caught sight of Emma watching her so intently. "Oh."

"My dad likes that song," the girl murmured. "He sings it when he thinks about my mom."

Smoothing her potions apron to hide her moment of flustered surprise, Hermione went to sit across from the little girl. "Can you tell me about them?" she asked.

Emma beamed happily, kicking her feet in time with another song that was beginning to play on the radio. "My dad is smart, but he says my mama was a  _genius_. He always tells me she was  _brilliant_."

"And what's your dad called, Emma?" Hermione probed, running her finger along the rim of her glass.

"James. James Roberts," she all but crowed with pride.

"And your mama?"

The girl thought hard for a second, eyebrows furrowing. "Katherine Jean," she said finally. "I never knew her," she shrugged.

"James and Katherine Jean," Hermione smiled, taking mental notes. "Those are nice names." The brunette nodded her head in agreement. "And what about the rest of your family? Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"No. My dad has a brother, though. I call him Uncle Ollie, but his name is actually Oliver." Tears bubbled up in her eyes, and she rubbed at them fiercely with her fists. "He and my dad are the funniest story tellers. They always tell me the story about Babbity Rabbity, and Uncle Ollie makes these little puppets that dance around for my little cousins!"

"That's great," Hermione beamed. "So, tell me more about your mother and father. Where did you live?"

"In a townhouse by Diagon Alley! My dad says mom didn't want to live where everyone and their grandmother would recognize us, so we lived in Muggle London. We even had muggle neighbors, too. They lived on both sides of us. My dad said my grandpa would have been over the moon if he had known."

Fred was there, suddenly, sliding into a chair beside Emma and resting his cheek in his palm as he regarded the little girl. "Yeah? So, your mom and dad were like us? They were magical, I mean? They weren't muggles?"

She shook her head almost violently, hair flying about her face. "Nope! My mom was a witch, and my dad is a wizard! But…" she trailed off, her cheeks reddening as if from embarrassment. "he doesn't do magic much. He keeps their wands up on a shelf. Every once in a while, he does some potion brewing for Uncle Ollie when he needs help, but that's about it…"

Fred looked sadly to Hermione. "Why's that, sweetheart? Did something happen?"

Emma shrugged, and Hermione frowned. "Well, can you tell us what happened to your mom and dad? How did you ends up at the Weasley's shop?"

"My mom died when I was little. During the war." She sniffed, wiping her nose on her long black sleeve. "And my dad…he said his brothers died, too. So, he was always sad. I think that's why he doesn't do magic so much."

Fred grimaced painfully, pulling her close to this side for a comforting hug. "I lost my brothers, too," he murmured. "two of them. I lost my little sister, too, later on. But, you know Emma, just because bad things happen doesn't mean that good things can't come from it." He stared across the table at Hermione, his blue eyes twinkling. "Without that happening, I don't think I would have every fallen in love with Hermione, for instance. My little brother was  _enraptured_  by her." He lowered his voice conspiratorially, "but, between you and me, he was a bit thick-headed, Ron."

She chuckled at Fred. "My dad says that, too! He always tells me that, even if he could go back, he wouldn't. That ' _some things are meant to be, and just because you can, doesn't mean you should_ '! He told me to always remember that, no matter what. He says there's no use in mourning the past, and that moving forward is the only way we can honor those that came before us!"

Hermione gave a soft smile. "That's very sound advice." She rose, pouring the little witch a small glass of orange juice from the refrigerator and sliding it to her. "Now. About your dad. Do you know where he might be?"

Emma shrugged again. "No. We got separated when the bad guys came into our home."

"Bad guys?" Fred asked. "Did they have masks? Like…skeleton masks?" She nodded, and Fred shared a concerned look with Hermione before he pat Emma on the head and told her he would do some digging to try and find her father. She hadn't looked too convinced at the prospect, but had given Fred another hug and left the room to join the other 'Under-Tens'.

"That's…concerning," Hermione whispered, moving to sit beside Fred. "Why would Death Eaters target a nondescript, half-blood family? Unless he's growing bolder and going after anyone with muggle heritage, now…"

Fred ran his hand through his tousled hair. "I haven't heard of anything like that. His crusade is all about muggleborns and the threat they pose. " He rolled his eyes. "If Death Eaters went after Emma's father, then he must have been up to something no-good."

Hermione tapped her fingers against the hard countertop, her nails  _rap, rap, rapping_  in agitation. "But, this is good," she said at last. "We know her father's name, at least. James Roberts."

They sat in contemplative silence for a while, Hemione leaning her head on Fred's broad shoulder for comfort. "Isn't it strange…"

"Hm?" he murmured.

"How everything played out, I mean." She took his large, calloused hands – hands that had once forcefully wielded a beater's bat with precision – in her much smaller ones, tracing the lines of his palm. "It was like…fate decided to throw away all our plans for our futures, but decided to give us one small bit of love and laughter."

"You mean me, right? Because if you're talking about George, Angelina might kill you."

She smacked him lightly on the shoulder, laughing lightly. "Of course I'm talking about George. Who else would I ever conceive of having – "

There came a loud  **BOOM**  from outside, and both jerked upright, their hands gripping their wands forcefully as they charged into the foyer. The house had gone almost deathly silent, except for the wail of little Addison down the hall as she was jolted from her afternoon nap.

"Clara, Eoin, Jordan!" Cassie barked at three eldest teens standing stock-still in the living room where they'd been playing a game of exploding snap. "Get the younger children into the basement. Go."

At once, the three girls leaped into action, though shakily, ushering the kids into the hallway and down the stairwell. Jordan, a rather slim blonde, disappeared down the hallway to fetch Addison before following after the rest of the children. The practiced slam and lock of the door practically resounded like a cannon shot in the Manor. Hatty appeared with Charlotte a moment later, both looking fierce, Charlotte's hair almost crackling with magic as she brandished her wand.

"What the  _fuck_  was that?" she snapped, waving her ebony wand to slam the shutters closed. Cassie was reinforcing the basement door with shielding spells to protect the children.

"Where's Alicia?" the raven-haired woman asked. "She went out for a walk, earlier. After the weather cleared. Said she had to tend to some ofof her plants! She should be back by now!"

There was a heartbeat of tense, panicked silence, before Cassie said, " _screw this_!" and bolted up the stairs, calling out for Alicia. Fred shook his head, and, wand in-hand, followed after her, assuring Hermione he would see to reinforcing the ceiling with magic just in case.

"Granger," Charlotte snapped, her eyes hooded with fear and anger. "You need to get downstairs; they'll be after you more than any of us. No need for you to put – "

" - I'll be up here just like the rest of you. I'm not an invalid; I have a wand to wield,  _just like the rest of you._ " Hermione countered testily as she moved to peer out the window into the whiteness. "I need to get out there and do a circle. Cassie!" she called. "Get down here! We need to do a patrol!"

The woman appeared just a moment later, face flushed red with anger. "Who in their right minds would try and launch some sort of attack on us in this weather?" she hissed.

Fred appeared at the top of the stairs a moment later, pale and slightly out of breath. "Hermione – "

" – I'll have Cassie. Make sure you and Charlotte reinforce the main beams, in case anything should happen." She wrenched the door open forcefully before, suddenly, in her place stood a white-faced owl.

Sooty-tipped wings beat hard, stirring up the snow on the front stoop a bit, and Hermione launched herself into the air, Cassie hard on her heels as she flung herself out the door, shifting mid-stride into a raven. Both animaguses disappeared in seconds, rising high into the sky. Thankfully, the earlier wind had died down a bit, the sheeting ice giving way to an almost-light, steady snowfall.

Hermione glided, powerful dark wings keeping her aloft as her black eyes scanned the empty fields below for any signs of life. A few deer had huddled against the morning storm near the tree line, but there seemed to be no other living creature about. So, Hermione wondered, what had caused the explosion they'd heard?

The two birds banked, drifting closer to the far-edge of the property, when Cassie gave a shrill scree. There, against the pristine whiteness, was a splash of vivid red, and two figures huddled against one another while another tended carefully to their injuries. Cassie dropped from the sky, landing beside them with wand brandished threateningly.

"Alicia!"

"Cassie!" the woman cried. "Thank Merlin! We need help!"

Hermione did one more pass, careful to make sure no one else was nearby, before diving down and resuming human form, her brows knit together. "What the hell?" she hissed.

Leaning heavily against one another, their hair so red with blood the blonde was almost nonexistent, gashes all along their faces and arms, were Luna Lovegood and Draco Malfoy.


	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Short chapter is short. I apologize. It's mostly just setting up for future chapters…kind of. ON top of having been a pain in the ass to write for some ungodly reason. Luna is a bit less airy than her personality dictates she was in the books; but I'm just going to chalk it up to adulthood. She's been pulling some crazy under-the-radar shenanigans for a while, now. I assume she would have lost some of that childlike innocence. Same with Draco.
> 
> Not too much Fremione shipping here, but we do get to see Charlotte in her truest form. (Side note: Charlotte is loosely based off of me and my personality. Nursing is…basically my dream job, I just lack the mathematical and scientific intelligence to do much more than be a bouncer.) The snippy snark between Cass and Charlotte is also based off the snippy snark between myself and LesbianRavenclaw. And Insert Clever Potter Name Here (aka Alicia) is definitely my Puffbae.

**Muggleborn Moses**

**_by Kem'Ajiana_ **

* * *

**Chapter 5**

_It took the combined efforts of_  Hermione and Alicia to get the two severely wounded blondes to the Manor – with Cassie speedily flying ahead to alert Charlotte and Fred. As they stumbled up the icy steps, Hermione found that Cassie had assisted in transfiguring the front room into a makeshift hospital wing, while Fred rushed about doing this and that to make things more comfortable – sheets here, pillows there. Hatty was busying herself with making hot tea and, what looked like, scones.

"Lay them out there," Charlotte snapped, her mismatched eyes sparking as she fell into her former occupational habits. There was a flush in her cheeks of practically unbridled enthusiasm, even as she swept to examine her first unconscious, slightly twitching patient. Her gaze flickered to the others as recognition dawned. " _Malfoy_?"

Alicia was almost as white as a sheet, her teeth chattering from a combination of cold and distress as she swayed on her feet unsteadily. "I was just out walking after the storm, when I heard this…this horrible  _crack_! Like a bad Apparition!" Her eyes welled with tears, and Cassie helped her to sit on the low couch, rubbing her back soothingly. "I got there as fast as I could, and they were there! All cut up and bleeding! I did my best to sort of…patch them up; he had a horrible gash on his leg – it was bleeding all over the snow."

With a curt nod, Charlotte waved her slim ebony wand over the motionless form of Draco, mumbling spells quickly under her breath. Almost at once, the shallowest of the gouges along his face and arms began to knit back together, and Hermione summoned a clear vial of dittany while they waited with baited breath. Wine brows knit together with disconcertion. She ran her hands over his long arm, his fingers giving faint spasms, and with a quick twist, there came the wet sound of a pop. Everyone in the room seemed to go green, at that, and his whole arm jerked a bit like a dying fish. Hermione rubbed her own hands at the sight, realization dawning on her a half a heartbeat before Charlotte began to speak.

"I'm going to assume Lovegood is in much the same shape, though to a lesser extent," she murmured while her slim fingers deftly plucked at the buttons of his gray coat. The garment fell open, and she wasted no time, slicing his black dress shirt from collar to hem, revealing once-ivory skin marred with ugly black and blue bruises and dark crimson smudges of blood. There was the very definitive imprint of a hand at his ribcage, his entire right side swollen, as well as the long-faded silver scar from Harry's  _Sectumsempra_  curse years prior. "He was put under a  _cruciatis_ curse, and not kindly. There may very well be lasting damages."

"It's the  _cruciatis_ curse," Cassie muttered. "show me a kind person that commits _that_  Unforgivable."

Charlotte shot her a hard look, and the woman fell silent with an upwards tilt of her chin. "On top of that, it seems he was in a nasty fight around the same time. That handprint, there…that crushed one of his rib bones. And his arms is broken in two different places. Cassie," she flicked her hard gaze on the woman with an air of authority. "I need you to come up with a few potions, for me: bone mending, a blood replenishing, and a sleeping draught or two. I need a few wound-cleaning ones, as well. If you would."

Hermione watched as the woman fired off a rapid succession of orders to the others, patiently waiting as she then turned to Luna and performed much the same tasks as before. Cassie swept away with Alicia at her heel, eager to complete her tasks rather than sit about while Charlotte did what she dubbed ' _her thing_ '. Unlike Draco, Luna seemed less worse for wear, and her eyelids fluttered open halfway through her examination.

"Hermione?" came her soft, lilting voice. It was evident she was in pain by the husky undertones of her voice, but her blue eyes betrayed only concern and confusion. "Where am I? How is Draco?"

With a soft hiss, Charlotte pressed the girl's shoulder back down as she moved to sit. "I need you not to move, Luna. Please. Draco will be fine as soon as Cassie and Alicia get back with the potions I asked for. I need to finish up checking you over before I let you move around; you may have internal damage – "

" – No.  _No_!" she insisted, shoving the red-head's hands off her and stumbling from her makeshift bed. "Draco – he protected me. He kept them from hurting me too badly. Greyback took great pleasure in kicking him around." She went to kneel at the man's bedside, clutching his limp, twitching hand in her much smaller ones.

"Luna," Hermione asked quietly. "Tell us what happened. How are you  _here_?"

There was only the sound of ragged breathing for a few tense moments, during which Alicia flitted into the room with two half-empty bottles ("a  _pain reliever, and what's left of the bone mending potion. Cassie is whipping up a few more as we speak_.") and deposited them at Charlotte's workstation before practically running back out of the room. Luna was shaking slightly as Charlotte uncorked the glass vial of a vibrant purple potion and tilted the contents down Draco's throat, coaxing him to swallow with two fingers along the column of his pale, but bruised, throat.

"We were on our way to meet Tonks," she began hoarsely as she brushed blood-reddened blonde hair from Draco's face. "We had a new child pop up on the Ministry radar – Theodore, six. I asked her to meet me at a restaurant in Muggle London. Apparently, one of the D.E. scum picked up on what we were doing with one of our past rescues; he grabbed me as I was passing some…some Muggle shop that sold strange little baubles. He drug me into the alley, took the folder, and started kicking me around. He kept asking what I was up to and…and if I was working with anyone…and what I was planning on doing with all those kids. He said they'd been keeping tabs on my for a while, now." She took a deep, steadying breath.

"I guess I was running late, because Draco showed up before…before it really got any further than a few well-aimed curses and a few kicks and slaps. But, Greyback was there. He…he decided that Draco needed to learn where he stood more thoroughly. I can't really say what happened after. I must have hit my head."

Hermione leaned into Fred, who had come up behind her to fling his arm around her shoulders comfortingly. "Oh, Luna. I'm so sorry…"

The girl that Hermione had once deemed air-headed and naïve just waved her hand in dismissal. "I knew what I was signing up for when you asked for my –  _our_ – help, Hermione." There was a serious wisdom about her that struck a chord within the brunette. "I am afraid that Tonks never got the file, however. I fear that the boy Theodore is as good as dead…"

Sadness befell the room, even Charlotte taking a second to hang her head with grief, as they sent a mournful prayer up for the child. She handed the blonde woman a vial – pain potion – and Luna drank it with a small smile and a quick thanks.

"What do you plan to do, now, Luna?" Fred asked gently.

She shook her head. "I don't know. Draco and I…we can't go back to Britain. That's suicide." She fixed her sorrowful gaze on Hermione for a long second. "Does your offer still stand to work with you here?"

"Of course, Luna. Anything you need. Draco, too."

Charlotte let out a heavy breath of relief, sagging onto the couch. "Oh, thank Merlin. If they take on some classes, we may actually have a chance to  _teach_ , instead of drowning the poor kids with work.  _And_ , we may be able to breathe now and again."

Hermione shared a small smile with the redhead, retreating from the room with Fred to slump at the dining table. She rested her forehead on her arms, heaving a great sigh. "We have a problem, Fred."

The man hummed his agreeance, stroking his large hand down her spine soothingly. "I know. And we'll deal with it."

"No. I mean…" she trailed off for a half a second before plunging onward. "the only way for them to have gone from London to here is if they used one of my Emergency Portkeys. And, if that's the case, who's to say that they weren't…I don't know…traced. Or followed? What if someone got wrapped up in the portkey at the same time it activated? We could have a Death Eater right here in Williamsburg and not even know it!"

"Shh," he murmured, pulling her close and tucking her under his arm. "I know. And we'll deal with it. I promise." He repeated. "We'll deal with it. I'll take Cassie and Alicia out first thing tomorrow and double up on the wards around the property. You need to stay inside; stop putting yourself in harm's way." She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her with a quick kiss, running his thumb down her jaw. "Not for you, 'Mione. For me. Promise me, you'll take better care of yourself?"

She glowered at him for a long second before giving a great sigh and nodding. "Fine. Fine, Fred. You win."

"Good girl," he cooed, hugging her tighter. "You could help Charlotte out; I'm sure she'll be out of sorts for a day or two. Draco will probably be touch and go, tonight. I'll take her patrol. It's only fair. And, that way, I can keep an eye on you."

With a wrinkle of her nose, she laughed lightly, burrowing in closer to his body warmth. "I just want it all to stop, Fred. I want Ron and Harry and Ginny back. And…all of them."

"I know, love. I know."


End file.
